


Christmas Wrappings

by writetheniteaway



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas Wrappings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28804245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: A chance encounter on New Year's Eve bring Bellamy and Clarke together for one New Year's kiss, and a serious of increasingly inconvenient events proceed to keep them apart. Will they ever be able to find time for that drink?
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42
Collections: bellarkescord advent calendar





	Christmas Wrappings

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Christmas Wrappings by the Waitresses and written for the Bellarkescord Advent Calendar.

**DECEMBER**

Bellamy shakes the snow out of his hair, stamping his boots against the back wall and remembering at the last second to place, not drop, the crate of liquor in his hands. It’s his first New Year’s Eve off of work in six years, so how he wound up helping out at Murphy’s pub for the night was still a bit lost on him.

Strictly speaking, he _had_ come just to party, but then the teenage waiter Luca who Murphy had hired as an attempt at instilling a sense of social responsibility into the kid had called in “sick” at ten, which pulled Emori out from behind the bar to wait tables, and left Miller flying solo mixing drinks and Murphy up to his eyes in appetizer specials.

Never one to watch his friends drown, Bellamy ducks under the bar, sticks his head into the kitchen door and asks Murphy where he could pitch in, then finds himself doing whatever menial task has to get done but is simply not urgent enough to pull anyone actually on call away.

He unloads the massive industrial dishwasher, runs three nacho mountains to the regulars in the back who were too good natured to grumble about the “tourists” taking over their bar for the night, at least within earshot of anyone on staff, and finally Murphy asks him, with at least a little bit of guilt, if he could run a few crates of liquor up from the basement. While this was normally a fairly simple task, the most direct route meant trying to weave through the massive crowd of people, and so that means taking the back alley stairs, through the kitchen, and then landing finally at Miller’s feet to restock the bar.

Bellamy had no shortage of odd jobs in his lifetime, lugging some crates around wasn’t really a difficulty, but when he realizes that it had begun snowing, he understands why Murphy had looked particularly guilty when he made the request.

“My hero,” Emori thanks him profusely. “It’s almost midnight, get your ass out of the kitchen and go have some kind of a social life.”

“It’s fine,” Bellamy waves her off. “I wasn’t about to spend all night watching you all pull your hair out.”

“Last time I try and do a good deed,” Murphy grumbles. “Seriously I hate to ask-“

“I was already staying to help clean up,” Bellamy finishes his thought.

“Employee of the month,” Miller slides him a shot of whiskey and a beer. “Now get out from behind my bar and go kiss someone for all of us who left our boyfriend’s home on New Year’s.”

Bellamy downs the shot and takes the beer with him, making his way across the crowd before someone recognizes him and tries to give their kitchen order. He checks his watch, 11:53, well hell time flies when you forget you’re supposed to be having fun. He sees Jasper and Monty in the opposite corner, and in his attempt to change direction winds up getting tripped up and pouring half his beer onto the floor.

“Watch it, asshole!”

Damn, not the floor. Onto a woman. Shit.

“I’m sorry-“

“Yeah of course you are, drop your drink on me as an excuse to look down my shirt. Save it and get the fuck away from me before I call the owner.”

That pisses him off. For starters, he’s not a damn creep, and there’s no way this twit in too high heels and a sparkly top had ever met John Murphy.

“Go ahead princess, be my guest, see if you can point him out.”

“Oh really, you want to add condescending nicknames to my harassment case?” He wasn’t expecting that reaction. He wants to be pissed that she’s keeping up this holier than thou charade, but she’s kind of hot, especially pissed off like this.

“I tripped. I spilled my drink. I’m sorry.” He takes an even tone, making her look like a jerk for escalating the situation. She narrows her eyes at him, sizing him up from a full head beneath him.

“I’m Bellamy,” He continues, pulling a dishrag out from his back pocket. “You can use this if you want.”

“You _work_ here?” She asks, her tone demeaning.

“Yeah, princess,” he used to, and he’s been helping out, and this spoiled brat is trying to talk down to him about it and _that’s_ not happening.

“No, I’m sorry,” She amends quickly, taking the dig for what it was, and her sincerity catches him off guard. “I just meant I’m surprised you’re drinking on the job.”

“Murphy’s my friend, they needed an extra pair of hands so I helped out.” He’s not sure why he’s telling her that, or why he even offered her the rag instead of letting her head into the bathroom to clean up instead.

“Thanks,” she says, taking it from him and dabbing at her shirt. “My friend Josie loaned it to me, she’s gonna be pissed if it stains.”

“Sorry,” he says again but the woman waves him off.

“I’ll just tell her about the hot guy who spilled his drink on me and that will distract her enough to get over it.” The girl looks at him wide eyed, embarrassment flushing her face.

Bellamy chuckles at that. “Does the hot guy get to know your name?”

“I’m Clarke,” she says quickly. “Murphy and I went to school together when we were kids.”

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asks, but the sounds of the countdown fill the room, and the crowd starts shifting. Bellamy maneuvers the both of them from being trampled as the excitement builds, taking her hand as a reflex. He goes to release it, not wanting to offend her further but she tightens her grip on his hand instead.

“Got anyone to kiss on New Year’s?” she asks him curiously.

“Is that an invitation?” he asks daringly.

She gives him a look that can’t possibly mean anything other than _come and get it._ He tangles his hand through her soft blonde hair, leaning down to meet her lips.

“Four, three, two,” she says with a smile, a breath away from him.

“One,” he finishes, kissing her quick like he’d never get another chance.

FEBRUARY

**I hope you don’t mind, Murphy gave me your number. I had to fly out and help my mom move and I wound up staying longer than I thought.**

**__** _Bellamy?_

**Hey princess**

**__** _Hi!_

**How are you?**

**__** _Kind of swamped, residency’s a bitch._

**You’re going to be a doctor?**

**__** _If I survive these night shifts, yeah._

**Ouch, done my fair share of those**.

_Are you back in town then?_

**Yeah. You think maybe we can get that drink sometime?**

**__** _I’d love that._

APRIL

_Oh my God, I’m so sorry._

**What for?**

**__** _I meant to text you weeks ago and it just totally escaped me._

**It happens, no worries.**

**__** _Thanks :) Maybe we could go this week?_

**My sister’s visiting for her spring break, I don’t want to ditch her. Rain check?**

**__** _Sure. Just let me know._

**MAY**

**My turn to apologize. I accidentally ran my phone through the laundry and lost all my contacts. I’ve been working on reconnecting with everyone as fast as I can but I had to rebuild my work contacts first before I torpedoed the business.**

Yikes, that’s a nightmare. Glad you got it sorted out well enough to get a social life back.

**Me too. So at the risk of sounding like a jerk, drinks? Or maybe coffee?**

**__** _No I’m the jerk. I’ve got to make up a bunch of residency time or I’ll have to do an extra semester, so I’m pulling doubles until mid-June. You’re really sweet to try and keep trying, I’m just a disaster right now._

**Having goals doesn’t make you a disaster. It makes you determined.**

**It’s pretty hot ;)**

**__** _Haha very funny._

**I’m serious**

**__** _Text me in June?_

**Sure thing princess**

**JULY**

Clarke pops her lips together, tasting the sweet cherry lip gloss that she’d chosen to perfectly accent the red and white checker dress she had on. It made her boobs look fantastic, and if the way Bellamy hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of them at New Year’s was any indication, that would be an asset.

They were finally, finally heading out on their first date. They’d been texting on and off, a few phone calls, but they were both adults with busy lives. Clarke especially is drowning with her residency hours, and Bellamy is always jetting off to help his mom across the country, or making the drive to visit his sister at school states away.

He’s a hard worker, and cares about his family, and the way Murphy describes him as the most loyal and reliable friend he’d ever had, well, Clarke is willing to wait if it means making it work with someone who is allegedly that great.

So from New Year’s to July, they hadn’t seen each other, and pretty much just texted. Anyone else, she’d already have been on to the next. But he’s patient with her crazy schedule, and when he cancels has good reasons, and that kiss on New Year’s was the best she’d ever had, drunk or sober. She wants another taste.

Her phone vibrates in her purse and Bellamy’s name lights up her screen. Her heart sinks, you don’t call fifteen minutes before a date unless something’s wrong.

“Hey Bellamy,” she picks up the phone.

“Hey Clarke,” he says, sounding morose.

“Are you okay?” she asks with sincere concern.

“Can I start with I’m sorry?” he asks.

“Guess we’re not heading out to watch the fireworks off the pier,” she says, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.

“Octavia was in a car accident,”

“Oh my God,”

“She’s okay. Stable. But there are a lot of broken bones and a minor concussion, and-“

“Go, Bellamy of course. I understand.” Clarke says quickly. She’s not a monster.

“Hey Clarke?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“Just so you know, I really hate myself for doing this to you again.”

“We’ll make it work some time, tell your sister I’m glad she’s okay.”

“Thanks, princess.”

“Talk to you soon.”

“You can count on it.”

**OCTOBER**

Bellamy smirks into the mirror, slicking his hair back with what is probably far too much grease. Murphy was throwing a huge Halloween bash at the bar, and he and Clarke were determined to finally get that drink he promised her. They’d even agreed to a couple’s costume.

Yeah, it’s a bit excessive to be dressed as the Danny Zuko to Clarke’s Sandra Dee when they hadn’t even been on a second date. But this girl was special, and he thought it would make her laugh when he suggested it, but then she played along and she sounded so enthusiastic about it he couldn’t possibly tell her it had only been a joke.

So he pulls out his leather jacket, slicks his hair like he used too back in high school when he thought it looked cool (it had not, but if only his mother had told him so sooner), and sets out to finally spend some time getting to know this still-so-much-a-mystery woman who was hell bent on trying to save the world.

She has infinite patience for his chaotic family life, and a heart of gold when she talks about helping people in the hospital. It doesn’t hurt that she’s also hot as fuck, and he is really looking forward to seeing her in the skin tight sweater that would accompany her poodle skirt.

His phone rings on the nightstand, a number he doesn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Bellamy?”

“Clarke? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I uh, I’m just not gonna be able to make it tonight.”

“Oh,” he says, disappointed. “Are you okay?”

“I was on the way back from visiting my mom and my car broke down. I left my cell by mistake when the tow came so that’s why I’m on this number.”

“You memorized my phone number?” he asks, surprised.

“Murphy’s,” she laughs nervously. “I called him first so I could tell you myself. I didn’t want you to think I was standing you up.”

“Do you want me to come get you?”

“I’m two states away, my mom’s almost here. You’re amazing for offering though.”

“We’ll get that drink some other time?” he asks.

“I’m counting on it.”

**DECEMBER**

Normally on Christmas, Bellamy flies out to his Mom’s. Their house is for the misfits, him and Octavia, probably this year her new boyfriend Lincoln, Diyoza, their mom’s AA sponsor, and Hope her daughter, and whoever else needed someplace to be on Christmas. It’s always chaos, and Bellamy loves it.

This year though, he’d taken a lot of time off, between Octavia getting into an accident and flying out an extra time to see his mom when she moved, he was out of vacation days, and the flights around the holiday were just too damn expensive.

He wasn’t unhappy about it, not entirely. The year had been crazy, and a quiet Christmas in was hardly the worst thing he could think of.

He knew how to make a Christmas turkey, and stovetop stuffing is as good as his mom’s homemade sausage concoction that she found in the back of an ancient recipe book, though he’d never say that to her face of course. 

And cranberry sauce has been his specialty since he was eight. He just needs to let them soak for a while. He pulls open the cabinet, then the fridge, and even his reusable grocery bags that he was sure were empty.

_Shit._

“Well, it’s not Christmas without cranberries,” he mutters to himself, bundling up against the cold.

He makes his way into the grocery store across town, the only one that’s still open all night. He makes a mental note to pay in cash and leave the cashier an amazing tip for being at work on Christmas day so that dumbasses like him who couldn’t go without a simple dish would have a place to pick up their last minute purchases.

He’s in the middle of a mental war with himself on the ethics of capitalism and his complacency in a broken system when he accidentally barrels into a woman in front of the cranberry display, knocking her flat to the ground.

“I’m so sorry-“

“Could you watch where you’re-Bellamy?”

“Clarke?” he asks with a laugh, reaching his hand down to pull her up.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, but not nearly as angry as a second ago.

“Forgot the cranberries,” he shrugs.

“Me too,” she says.

“Is your Mom in town?” he asks.

“Nope, spending this one alone. This year’s been crazy. Shouldn’t you be on the other coast right now?”

“Stayed home, needed a breather,” hsays. They each fall silent, awkwardly grabbing for the cranberry display.

“Come home with me?” he asks before he can overthink it.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s get that drink.”

Bellamy takes the bottle of sparkling cider and boxed brownie mix from her hand and places them on the belt along with two bags of cranberries, thanking the cashier profusely and beaming when Clarke bags up their groceries so the employee doesn’t have to. 

Bellamy takes the bag from the belt, and before he can think too hard about it takes Clarke’s gloved hand in his other. She gives him a shy smile and returns the gesture with a gentle squeeze. Christmas magic, indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am a participating writer in T100Fic4BLM movement! If you would like to prompt me for an update of my current WIPs , a second part of an existing one shot, or an entirely new work, you can donate to T100FicforBLM . Feel free to check out the initiative and send myself and the other amazing writers and creators their prompts for a great cause. Thank you for reading!


End file.
